wilfandomcom-20200213-history
Amaranthine/eight
The yowling and shrieks of battle faded as the strange she-cat and I padded away from the fighting, away from the camp, away from it all. We were silent, the only noises the wind in the trees and the rustle of our paws in the leaves and flowers, which slowly thinned until we exited the Twilight Hunters' territory. Missions outside of our group's territory were rare and would never be entrusted to a Cadet like me, so it was odd to be crossing the scent marks for the third time in my life. This time, though, I was moving into the unclaimed territory beyond our borders, land of vicious, lawless rogues. Or so I was told. The two of us came to a den, far less luxurious than the flowery ones I lived in as a Twilight Hunter. She led me inside, letting me lie on a bed of moss. She picked up an assortment of herbs and berries and began picking out the ones she found useful, much like our healers. I had never trained to be a healer, but I recognized some of the scenes wafting from the leaves and flowers. She picked up a stalk of what I presumed to be marigold, chewing it up and placing it on my wounds. She picked out a few more herbs, most of which were unrecognizable to me, covering me in leaves and petals by the time she was done. "Eat these," she murmured, placing a couple poppy seeds in front of my muzzle. "I'm Belladonna," she murmured. "I lived with the other group you've been fighting, and I too am tired of all this war." How did she know? I lapped up the poppy seeds, my wounds still stinging. I didn't feel any more drowsy than before, though I doubted it was possible to be sleepier than I already was. The she-cat - Belladonna - gazed down at me with a smile, sitting near the edge of her simple, practical den that smelled of herbs and flowers. "I was once part of the group you were at war with," she meowed warmly, "but I've been building this den since we moved here. I never liked the war, so I was planning on leaving when I got the chance. Now seems to be the time." The she-cat purred My world was growing fuzzy, Belladonna's face fading and my thoughts drifting off into wispy nothingness. My dreams were torrential and blurry, battle cries ringing in my ears as I slept. Nothing was clear, though I could easily tell that death was everywhere I looked. Everything whirled around, yowls sounding through the air and blood splattering everyone. I cried out, all the pain and death and blood overwhelming me, a sea of blood steadily rising and rising and rising- And then it all vanished as Belladonna shook me awake. When my eyes shot open, she gave me a comforting lick to my head, a concerned look in her eyes. "You cried out in your sleep," she meowed. "The poppy seeds were supposed to guarantee a peaceful sleep... Are you okay?" I nodded, my mind still drowning in all the blood and cries of pain, unable to shake off the terrible scene in my dream. I took a few deep breaths, trying to cling to reality. There was no pain here, no screeches and no blood. Only Belladonna and I. I don't know why exactly, but I immediately took a liking to this kind she-cat. It was hard not to, of course, when a cat picks you up in the middle of battle and heals your wounds. Belladonna was nothing but kind for the three sunrises I spent in her den healing. She woke me from my frequent nightmares, brought me herbs and prey, and talked to me about everything that had happened. She, too, happened to hate the group that had captured me. She told me of their greed for territory and vicious leaders, how much blood had been shed on their claws before then. I never spoke of the Twilight Hunters, still feeling slight guilt for abandoning them. It was better than staying there, I told myself. I would have died in that battle if it weren't for Belladonna. And I listened. Belladonna and I stayed together even after my wounds were healed, leaping through the wild forests, free from the pretentious gardens and strict rules of the Twilight Hunters, free from the bloodshed and chaos that she told me of in the group she once lived in. The war was behind us, the fear was behind us, all we cared about was dashing through the woods and meadows unbound by any regulations or war. When the sun started to fall and we finally got tired, we'd head back to the den and feast on the prey we caught the day before. We curled up in our mossy nests, not thinking about any past or future, just the present and each other. The two of us fell asleep chatting about our old lives, exhausted by the day's hunting. We woke up when we wanted, not following the rigid schedule I once stuck to as a Cadet. No Cherry woke me up before dawn, no Magnolia or Onyx to train us in the early morning light. Our lives were joyful and simple, the forest prey easily feeding the two of us. My nightmares eventually faded, my scars healed, the aftermath of the battle floating away with the breeze. I was happy, and that was what mattered. The two of us grew closer and closer, spending every second we could together. We met few other cats in our time together, and they rarely bothered us, keeping to their own business as we kept to ours. We spent a moon together living in that den, weaving through the forests and meadows, caring only for each other. The past faded from my mind, a wispy memory of what once was. Our home was in the reflections of the now-plentiful leaves in clear pools, the butterflies that flitted around the meadows lazily, the mellifluous birdcalls that rang through the air.